The Realm Prequel
by Pigwidgeon15
Summary: Incomplete A series of short snippets of exactly how 'The Realm' came to be.


"Harry!" called Bill Weasley waving him over, several sheets of paper fluttering about in his hand. Harry waved back, just making out the redhead from the other side of the bustling, noisy street. Holding his knapsack close and began weaving his way through the crowded Egyptian streets towards his fellow Curse Breaker. For a few moments he lost sight of his face but passing a thick group of heavily shrouded women he caught sight of him waiting between two haphazardly built stores. To the right drying bundles of foliage hung and to the left a young man was selling grains and seeds.

"Hey," Harry greeted over the hustle and bustle of the locals. Bill gave him a rough smile and headed through a low doorway, allowing him to follow. He knew he wouldn't have seen the door had he not been here before, it was nearly impossible to spot. Following the Weasley through the narrow passage the stepped into a small, much quieter tea shop where he took a seat opposite the tanned wizard.

Bill took a swig from his hipflask as he sat. Wiping his mouth he spoke. "I just got some correspondence from back in Britain," he told the younger wizard gesturing towards the papers he held. "They have finally found a replacement for old Will."

Will had been a magical artefacts expert from Norway. The month before, Will had had an unfortunate accident with a gold phyton they had recovered and was now lying comatose in a rickety old bed in a local Wizarding hospital.

"It's about time," Harry commented scratching his head. "Sand gets everywhere," he muttered to no one in particular. "So who did they get?"

"Gringotts wasn't able to employ anyone so they have finally agreed to hire a private contractor. It says here he has a degree in the Documentation and Preservation of rare and valuable magical artefacts."

"You can get a degree in that?"

A man placed a small tea pot on their table and poured Harry a cup of hot tea after Bill refused.

"Yeah, people can do it under a Master," he replied after the waiter left.

Harry nodded in understanding as he took a sip of the tea. It was strong and bitter, just the way it was meant to be. That didn't stop him pulling a face though. "Urg, I keep forgetting how horrible this stuff is," he said in a low voice. Bill chuckled.

"Well I don't come here for the tea."

"I think I keep hoping that one day it might taste alright." Harry put down the earthen ware cup on the thick wooden table. "So, when will they be here and where are they from?"

"We'll need to be back at the Pyramid by next Tuesday to set-up. He's set to arrive Wednesday. He's a Brit," he added as he folded the letters away into one of the many pockets in his robes. Unlike in Europe, it was customary for men and women to wear long flowing garments, so robes were a constant garment when they ventured near the city. "I believe you know him."

"Really? Who is it?" he asked, unconsciously taking another sip from his cup.

"Draco Malfoy."

Barely managing to keep the liquid in his mouth he quickly swallowed. "WHAT?"

ooOOoo

"Are you sure that you have completely checked this dome for _all_ traces of magical signature?" queried Draco for the fifth time as he inspected the richly decorated object.

"Yes, I'm sure," snapped Harry from behind a false wall.

Draco reached out and examined the artefact with his own wand and crystal. The crystal was designed to light a bright blue colour if anything began to 'leak' magic, a tell tale sign of a curse or ward. Finding no magical residue with his spells and getting no response from the crystal he decided that he might try and open it.

Both his and Harry's wands had been keyed to the crystal, so any residue magic from diagnostic spells didn't result in a false positive.

The dome sat atop a large pedestal that was completely unmarked. The dome itself was richly decorated with precious stones and made primarily of gold. Intricate detail covered the object, most densely around the edge. The top held two half stones, one green the other blue, as though they had been one stone but broken in two. Neither of the edges matched destroying the illusion that they had once been the same stone. Around the rim of the golden dome were two locks, one on either side, holding the dome tightly to the oval top of the pedestal and at either end was a handle, clearly to lift the object. Clicking the front lock he placed the crystal on top to watch for any residue leaking from inside. The white crystal firmly remained white. Then he did the other. Still no change. That was a good sign.

This was when the real thrill of the job was. Any minute now a hostile curse could lash out and attempt to snare him.

He reached forward and grabbed the gold handles and lifted. Nothing happened. The lid was stuck. He tried again but the lid would not budge the slightest.

While any normal wizard would have used a simple levitation spell, there was no telling what may happen if he tried, too many a witch and wizard had been killed or maimed for that exact mistake.

"Potter!" Draco called.

"What!"

"I need a lift."

"Again?"

"Yes again. Get your butt out here!"

A lot of grumbling and a few seconds later Harry emerged through the seemingly solid wall.

So far the pair had reframed from hexing one another but it was a close thing most of the time. Only the possibility of missing and setting off some ancient trap stopped them inside the Pyramids. Draco was in all technicality Harry's superior but cautious enough not to antagonize the other wizard. Of course if he did get right on Harry's bad side the young wizard could leave several hexes active in the chamber they were working in for Draco to set off.

Draco gestured towards the dome Harry rolled his eyes. Grudgingly he stepped-up to the other side and gabbed hold of the handle. "Where to?"

"Table," answered the blonde indicating with a tilt of is head to the examination table that had been set-up in the chamber.

Harry nodded. "On your count."

"Okay. One…Two…THREE."

Both pulled on their handles, slowly lifting the lid. Neither noticed the crystal, which sat on top, topple off and roll across the along the sandy floor before coming to a stop beside a huge stature. Nor did they notice it turning a bright blue in colour.

As the seal around the dome broke, a hiss escaped and two long white smoky streamers zapped out and around each of them. Pulling through their bodies like smoke lassoes. Each pulled out a small burning light, one blue, the other green. Lightning fast the zapped back into the dome, both bodies giving way. The dome hit the top of the pedestal with a mighty bang as both bodies went limp. It was several hours before they were found by a fellow worker.

"What happened?" asked Bill as he stared at the sight before him.

"I hadn't heard any shouting for about an hour so I came looking to see which one had died and found this instead," explained a wizard who had been working in another chamber near the crypt.

Bill drew a hand back through his hair, not sure how this had happened. Atop a stone pedestal before him sat an ornate gold dome, a handle on either end. Holding either handle were his best wizards, no matter how volatile they were when mixed. Their bodies were collapsed against the pedestal, both kneeling on the sand covered stone floor, their hands holding the handles as if they had been stuck there.

It was a little over a day later when the streamers slowly emerged once more, returning the two souls to their respective bodies, both a little battered and shaken but forever changed.

ooOOoo

"Your what?"

"My resignation," Harry repeated firmly as he placed it on the hard wood desk and slid it towards Bill.

"You're resigning?"

"No I'm just doing it for kicks," he said sarcastically. Opting for a more sincere tone of voice he repeated his earlier statement. "Yes I am resigning and I am handing you my resignation. Obligatory two weeks notice."

"Why?" Bill asked dumbfounded. "What can I offer you to make you stay?"

"It is nothing against you or anyone here," he said half truthfully. "I love the work but I just need a change." Harry flopped down in wooden chair beside him. "Somewhere I am just an average person, not the great Saviour of the Wizarding World. Even here everyone knows who I am. I've made my decision."

"Is there anything I can do to convince you to stay?" his boss asked pleadingly.

Harry slowly shook his head, a sad smile on his face.

_Fate has dealt a cruel hand to me. You knew that a long time ago but you're still here_

ooOOoo

"A little more to the left. No back. Too far. Bring it forward a little. A little more. A little more. Stop. Turn the front corner towards me a bit. Yes. Perfect."

With a sigh Draco released his hold on the large, solid bed and lowered his wand turning around. "Are you quite sure now?" he asked in jest.

"Absolutely," said his lover, drawing him close and kissing him deeply, inhaling his scent.

The blonde pulled back a little and waved his wand in an intricate pattern towards the boxes of belongings they had levitated into the Master bedroom. Soon clothes and all manner of other objects were flying around the room as they found their new homes.

He turned to look Harry in the eyes again and was met with a raw hunger. Reaching for his collar, Harry pulled Draco close, intent on snogging away the self satisfied smirk his lovers face.

Draco smiled against his lips, refusing to allow his questing tongue entrance. Effectively slipping out of his embrace he headed out of the room. Pausing he looked back over his shoulder to the dark haired man.

"We still have boxes to unpack."

"Draco," whined Harry, clearly dissatisfied by his response.

"After we are finished putting away our belongings, _then_ we can christen our lovely new bed."

Harry smiled a wolfish smile, once again grateful for magic.

The newly bonded couple had purchased a beautiful two story house in the middle of a Muggle development. Their belongings had been shrunken and brought with them while new furniture had been purchased and delivered. Harry had discretely placed some listening charms on their neighbouring houses, intent on what new neighbours thought of them. The rather rude invasion of privacy had yielded some promising results and more not so promising results.

The elderly couple two houses up across the street were very adamant that they were two poor sick boys who clearly didn't get enough love and spiritual guidance when they were younger and had been caught in the devils web. The greying woman was insistent that she would make them right with the proper love and care.

The next door couple were much more accepting. It turned out that the husband's brother was gay and had a different boyfriend for each day of the week. The wife thought that they were a lovely couple and that her brother-in-law should settle down like them.

Directly across the road was a family of four who paid them little attention, too wrapped up in their own lives.

And beside them was a single woman who had been, admittedly discreetly, eyeing off Draco. Harry had already decided that tomorrow morning he would give her a nice eyeful while they were having breakfast on the back porch.

ooOOoo

After a month things were working out wonderfully. Draco had a secure job at a reputable advertising company as an assistant manager and Harry had started work at a travel agency, putting to good use his now extensive knowledge of tourist destinations. That six month holiday around the world had really paid off.

There had been no direct incidences with their neighbour's even though the elderly woman continued to insist they come over for tea. The single woman next door was still single and still had her eye on his lover. It turned out that she rather liked the little show of a morning they put on for her over breakfast that morning.

Everything was wonderful.

But fate's a bitch.

ooOOoo

"Morning love," murmured Harry as he bent over Draco to give him a deliciously long morning kiss which of course had nothing to do with the fact that the woman next door happened to be walking past her kitchen window.

Draco smiled contently, his eyes closed as Harry pulled away. "Good-Morning," he drawled slowly as his eyes cracked open. "And what a delightful start to the morning that was." The blonde swung his head around lazily to watch as Harry took a seat opposite him at the outdoor table which was now officially their Breakfast table.

The back patio had lovely red wood boards and was shaded from the bright Australian sun by a large triangular sail made of a heavy white material. The stairs next to the house lead down from the patio to a mostly open backyard that consisted mainly of unusually lush green grass. Two small gardens were situated in the back corners of the yard which hosted a variety of bright flowers in one bed and an array of garden vegetables in the other. The fence was a low three foot and made of wire. It was a rather nice view from the second story.

At the table toast and boiled eggs had been set out on white plates accompanied with tall glasses of rich orange juice. Draco was always the first up of a morning and had therefore decreed that under House Law he was in charge of breakfast every morning. In return Harry cooked most nights unless they ate out.

"She's watching isn't she?" stated Draco.

A faint pink hue started to form on Harry's cheeks as he focused all of his attention on his boiled egg. "I don't what you're talking about," he insisted, his voice a little too strained for it to be convincing.

Draco smirked and shook out his newspaper that had been lying, almost forgotten, in his lap. "You're a terrible liar. You do know that, right?" Harry offered no answer, simply looked up from his soft boiled egg which he was currently mutilating with toast soldiers. "You always do that to her. That poor lonely young woman stuck at home with no one to scratch her … 'itch'."

"And what precisely would you know about her 'itch'?"

Draco simply smirked as he continued to read the daily business report. Harry in turn huffed and went back to licking his fingers clean of the yoke smeared on them. Draco kindly reframed from commenting on such a lack of proper table manners because he knew from experience that if he did comment Harry would become riled up and insist that he showed no manners either for reading the paper at the table. Of course he was quite right but it wasn't as though Draco was going to admit it.

"There's some post for you," Draco offered after a few moments pause. The dark haired man put down the serviette he had decide to use to wipe is mouth and went in search of the letters. "Under your bread and butter plate," he added as Harry started looking behind his briefcase.

Some of them had been the usual rates and another had been a 'You have WON!' promotion. Draco didn't really understand why Harry insisted on reading them, though he did appreciate the satisfaction in burning them afterwards.

Folding up his paper Draco placed it beside his plate and finished his cooling toast. As usual when he was finished Harry stood to take the plates inside.

"You know she likes to watch." Harry paused as he reached for Draco's plate. Shaking off the comment he grabbed hold of the plate only to have Draco do the same to his wrist. The brunette turned to look towards his partner, his eyes questioning. "You like the way she stands at that window," he continued, rising to his feet. "Watching but never saying a word to either of us." The blonde eased the plates from his hands. "You like that she fantasises over us," Harry began to stutter. "Over you."

"You're the one she always has her eye on," he hissed, suddenly finding his voice. Emerald green eyes flickered towards the low set house.

'Ah, so that's what it is all about,' thought Draco. 'He's jealous…Not that I mind of course.'

Draco shrugged. "Well me then." Bending close he whispered, "Let's give her something to get her all hot and flustered." Grabbing Harry's lapels he pulled him close, smashing their lips together in an almost violent kiss. The lips under his own parted, releasing a wanton moan which he readily swallowed. Alabaster hands speared through dark locks as each man devoured the other, tongues warring, hands roaming.

Draco backed Harry up until he was trapped between his lover and the small table. A delightful mix of pleasurable Draco and painful table. Harry growled, pressing his hips forward, indicating his growing arousal. It was Draco's turn to moan.

The pair pulled apart, breathing hard. Draco turned his head towards the next door kitchen window. "She likes it," he whispered, his voice husky. Harry also turned his head to look. Both men could see the brunette standing at the window, her cheeks flushed and bottom lip caught between her teeth. "Perhaps we should invite her over, have a little threesome happening," he teased.

"No," growled Harry. "You're mine and mine alone." He practically hissed, emphasising his point by firmly grabbing the blonde's ass, effectively pulling him closer. Draco moaned as their covered cocks were pressed against one another, his head falling against Harry's shoulder, eyes closed.

"Fuck," he whispered.

"Gladly." The brunette moved the couple away from the table. "Let's finish this inside," he whispered, grabbing Draco's hand and leading him towards the sliding porch door.

Lips red and swollen Draco turned to the window over the fence to offer the flustered woman a shrug before disappearing inside their house.

It was many hours later before the breakfast plates were cleared that morning.

ooOOoo

"Draco!" called Harry from somewhere near the kitchen.

The man in question spat out his toothpaste before wiping his mouth on the bathroom hand towel. "Yeah," he replied sticking his head out into the hall.

"Where did this parchment envelope come from?"

Draco paused for a moment, unsure how to word his response. Instead of replying straightaway he walked down the hall just past the kitchen to the joint dining room where Harry stood reading the post. Draco saw the letter in question in his hand as the brunette turned it over to look for a return address.

"I, ah, still get some owl post. Just to keep up with the wizarding economy and manage the Malfoy assets. Just some boring business stuff," he explained.

"That letter was addressed to you."

Harry nodded and Draco went back to the bathroom to put on his tie. He shouldn't have really been getting mail. It left a connection between them and England, or more precisely _him_ and England. Draco could name, on one hand, the people who knew that Harry and he were living together and all of them were very discreet. For that reason he had no idea who had sent the letter or _letters_ rather. Over the past month, along with his daily business report, supplied by a local wizarding press, and the rare letter from his solicitors back in England, there had been letters addressed to Harry.

Harry had informed all of his friends that he was wanting to get away for a while, a long while, and had given them a post box to send mail to which he checked every Tuesday and Thursday, effectively cutting himself off from the wizarding world. These letters though were becoming more and more frequent. The second letter had arrived two weeks after the first, then the third a week later, then three days, then two every two days and then today there was three. Of course he had first ignored them hoping that it was simply a one off occasion. Then when more arrived he had tried to open them, with no success. And finally he had decided to give Harry the letter.

Draco didn't want to risk some wizard turning up on their doorstep, demanding to see Harry for whatever reason. Careful spell work on his part had revealed that the letters weren't booby trapped and did in fact originate from London, England. The Ministry of Magic actually.

But they had no business wanting to speak to Harry. He had left England. They were now both Australian citizens and wanted nothing to do with England. They had no obligations.

Draco tugged his tie straight. Looking in the mirror he tweaked it a little more before he was satisfied and then went to find Harry and that darn letter.

"I'm leaving," called out Harry, his voice sharp. "I'll be home at the usual time."

"Harry," called Draco as he hurried down the carpeted stairs towards the garage. "Harry!" But he wasn't fast enough and only caught the sight of rear of Harry's car as he drove off.

Draco had no idea what would cause such a reaction in his lover but he was determined to find out. Dashing back upstairs he saw the mail sitting on the table in a lopsided pile. Picking it up he went through them.

Rates. Electricity. Flyer. Competition. Bank. But no parchment letter.

Draco looked all over but couldn't find it. Harry had taken it with him.

ooOOoo

Harry passed his partner a cup of hot chocolate as he sat down on the other half of the small sofa. Things had been unusually tense since that morning. Harry hardly said anything.

"Thanks," said the blonde as he blew across the top of the cup. For a moment they sat their quietly watching a pathetic drama about a sheep station. Eventually Draco spoke. "How was your day?"

"Fine."

"Any interesting clients come by?"

"No."

"Are you still arranging that school ski trip?"

"Yes."

Draco was really getting tired of this unresponsive partner. "Harry, what is wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Something must be the matter. You've hardly said a thing since you got home." No response. "What did the letter say?"

Harry didn't say anything, simply put his cup down and got up. "Do you want some apple pie and ice cream?" he asked as he walked out, not bothering to wait for an answer.

ooOOoo

Draco watched as Harry finished brushing is teeth.

"What was in the letter?"

"Nothing important," he replied off handily. "Do you know where the mouth wash is?"

"I'd still like to know."

"You wouldn't be interested," he said batting the subject away as he rinsed and spat.

"I could be. You never know."

Harry didn't offer a reply instead put the mouthwash away and made to leave the room.

"You can't avoid the subject, Harry," said Draco firmly as he placed his arm across the doorway where he stood. Harry turned slowly to look Draco in the eye. "I won't let you."

"And I'm telling you it's nothing for you to worry about." Harry pushed past Draco and went to lock the back door but the blonde grabbed his sleeve.

"I know something is wrong," he said softly. "I can see it. Or did you forget that I can sense you're soul. I feel that you are hurting."

Harry did not turn but instead hung his head. "I can't talk about this right now…I need some time and I promise I will talk to you."

"You can come to me for anything, Harry," replied the blonde, his heart almost hurting with the strong emotions he felt. "We have to talk to one another. That's what we are all about, isn't it?"

Harry nodded.

"Just don't keep it all bottled up inside. We handle things together."

"Soon."

Draco released Harry's sleeve and went to wait in bed.

ooOOoo

"There was another prophecy," said Harry as they sat watching television the next night. "They want me to go back."

Draco resisted turning to look at Harry instead focusing on the television. His hand crept across the small difference that separated them and onto Harry's knee where his hand was. Harry intertwined their fingers, staring down at their joined hands as he continued.

"Unspeakables from the Department of Mysteries have been monitoring several parallel dimensions and one of them is in unrest. They predict that it will spill over the barriers which separate the universes before long. Engulf our world, our dimension, universe and all, and destroy it."

For a long while Harry said nothing.

"What has this got to do with you?"

"Researchers have linked, with 97.8% confidence, a prophecy. Pretty much it says the one who destroyed Voldemort is the only hope to save the world again.

"I have to go back."

ooOOoo

Draco didn't know what to say, he just looked at Harry. What could he say? What the HELL do you say to your partner who's just told you he has to save the freaking universe?! He didn't know what to say so he just sat there, his thumb stroking Harry's hand.

"What do ..." He cleared his throat. "What do they want you to do?"

He shrugged and continued staring at their intertwined fingers for a while longer before looking up into his partner's eyes. "I don't know." The blonde watched as he chewed on his bottom lip, his eyes downcast once again. "The letter said they want me to travel to the alternate universe through a doorway portal that they predict will open 27days before Christmas."

"We have a month and a half," he said softly.

Harry shook his head slowly. "They want me back as soon as possible." He sighed.

"Are you going to do it?"

"I don't have a choice, Draco."

"You always have a choice," he insisted, squeezing Harry's hand.

"There is no choice," he said sternly, pulling away his hand and standing up. "I've sent my reply. I leave in three days." He turned away from the couch and headed from the room.

"Three days!" exclaimed Draco swivelling around on the sofa. "When were you going to tell me this?"

He paused for a moment. "I just did."

"You can't just up and _leave_!" he shouted springing up from the couch. "We have a life here. We have a house, jobs, commitments!"

"And I have a _commitment_ to the god damn world!" he shouted back from his position in the doorway. "The fucking universe!"

"What about me?"

"What about you?" Harry snarled viciously.

"Who the hell do you think you are? Don't just w-"

"_I'm_ the fucking Saviour! You should bloody well know that by now. Nothing's changed! I don't need you or anyone telling me that everything is going to be okay. Just fuck off!" He spun around and hastily left the room.

Draco started drawing in another breath to tell him exactly what he thought of him only to become acutely aware of the pain that throbbed in his chest behind his rib cage. Pain, there was emotional pain. It was sorrow and hurt. There was yearning and loneliness. What was he doing? Harry needed him. He wouldn't allow himself to be pushed away.

Stepping around the sofa and into the hallway he listened for Harry. He wasn't in the dining room or the second bedroom. Turning into the kitchen he saw the other man staring at the sink full of hot soapy water, the unwashed dishes stacked on the bench top beside him.

The blonde slowly walked closer. Harry turned his head sharply to look at him, a snarl on his face.

"Stop," Draco said softly. "Just stop. You can't lie to me Harry. You know you can't."

"You don't bloody well-"

"Stop lying to yourself," he said sternly. "I feel your pain." He brought a clenched fist to his chest. "It's throbbing in here. I know you're hurting. That you think this is Voldemort all over again. But this is different. This time you have me."

Harry looked into the silver eyes before him and the masks fell from him.

"I'm scared." His voice was so small and fragile. Draco stepped forward pulling him firmly into an embrace.

"I know, love. I'm here for you," he whispered. "It's okay. I'm here."

A sob escaped him. Then another and another before tears started to fall freely, soaking into the blonde's collar where Harry's head was buried. His body shook and trembled and Draco held him firmly, offering as much comfort as he could.

By the time Harry's wracking sobs had stopped he had cried himself hoarse. His face was a splotchy red and Draco's shirt was thoroughy wet. But he paid it no mind as he gathered his Harry up and carried him to bed. The dish water was stone cold.

"Jones, I have told you before, this is your last warning, no smoking within this office!" A wand whipped out of no where blowing the cigar to dust. With a flap of his robes he nearly flew through the room and disappeared within his head office. BANG! went the door, nearly flying off its hinges.

Finally someone spoke.

"Bloody hell," muttered Ernest looking towards the door through which his boss had just disappeared through. "What's his problem?" he asked turning to his workmate.

"Not a bloody idea," came the response.

"Probably those Egyptian Wizards," offered a woman in her late twenties. "They messed with his head when he was there."

"Someone's been pulling your leg, Irma," said a stocky red haired man from the other side of the room. "It was the Tibetan Monks."

"Tibetan Monks? You're kidding yourself Mitch," Ernst said. "He wasn't even on this continent! He was down in, um, what do you call it…New Zealand!"

"Children," admonished Rosaria, "none of you have any idea where it was that Mister Malfoy disappeared to. You are all simply retelling the rumours which have been around for months. Either come up with some more creative gossip or find out some hard facts. Your conversations are tiring." The elderly plump woman re-inked her quill and went back to her desk work before pausing. "And if any of you want to know why Mister Malfoy is so irritated this morning, I suggest you go and ask him yourself or leave it be and get on with your own work."

Grudgingly each and every one of the workers turned back to their desk and continued with their desk work.

ooOOoo

"I don't care what time of the morning it is," raged Draco Malfoy at the poor soul who's head was stuck through his floo, "I want to speak with Granger _now_!"

"Really Sir, Madam McKew is a very busy woman and would not take kindly to your insistence that she meet with you right this instant nor you atrocious lack of manners."

Draco saw red. "How dare, a common, lowly desk servant such as yourself, accuse me, the Malfoy Heir, of having _bad manners_! I was born with manners! Now I **firmly** insist that you get _Ms McKew_ over here this instant before I have your deprived ass FIRED!" Forcefully Draco cut off his floo connection with a wave of his hand. Growling he threw himself down in his desk chair only to stand-up. He grabbed a large paper weight off his desk and hurled it into the empty fire place. The loud shattering followed by tinkling of glass was very satisfying and quickly soothed his nerves.

He sincerely hoped that he had sent the idiotic woman sprawling on the ground at her end of the connection, her high heeled feet sticking out in different directions giving a lovely view of her panty clad ass. Draco chuckled at the sudden mental picture. The woman was stuck between her desk and chair, unable to move, only wave her legs and arm about, squawking the whole time.

A snicker bubbled up in his throat which turned into a chuckle then a giggle before becoming full blown laughter. In a short while Draco was hunched over his desk, head on top of his files while his fist bashed the surface of the desk. Hysterical howls of what could have possibly been called laughter, but easily mistaken with the sounds of a dying animal, echoed around the room. The image of the woman playing over and over in his head as tears began to trail down his cheeks and onto his paper work, smearing some of the words. Arms flailing, wooden desk, short shirt, white panties, squawks, high heeled shoes… The thought of those high heeled shoes immediately connected with the memory of a single next door neighbour who used to wear those shoes, back when they lived in Australian. Back when Harry was here.

The laughter stopped almost immediately. Harry. His Harry. They were supposed to be together, in richness and poorness, sickness and health. They were supposed to Be TOGETHER! And they weren't. He was gone. He would never see him again. Ever. The aristocratic blonde's face scrunched up pain. His chest heaved as he gave huge racking sobs.

Out in the main office several of the workers exchanged looks, every so often glancing at the door to their boss's office. All of them had become accustomed to his wild rages but after hearing the sound of irate floo call accompanied by the smashing of glass followed hysterical laughter which had then dissolved into distressing cries, none of them were quite sure what to do.

Mitch looked questioningly to Ernest who in turn shrugged. "Rosaria?" The elderly woman looked up from her requisition form, her lips pursed. "Don't you think we should do something? He kind of sounds…distressed." A kind light flickered in the plump woman's eyes.

"I'll handle it," she assured him as she stood and made her way over to the floo. "St Mungo's, Madam McKew's Office," she recited clearly as she threw in some floo powder.

"Hello, welcome to Madam McKew's office," spoke a woman's voice, a clearly rehearsed speach. "How may I be of assistance? Oh… Mrs Jones, ah… how are you?"

"This is not a pleasure call Miss Stewart. I don't do pleasure calls," replied the plump witch shortly. "I suggest that you send Hermione over promptly- "

The blonde interrupted. "Madam McKew is a very busy woman-"

"I don't care how busy _Madam McKew_ is. I am _telling_ you to send Hermione over immediately before Mister Malfoy has a nervous break down, after which he will most promptly have your current employment terminated."

The witch's voice held such certainty that the blonde stuttered a little before insisting that she would send her boss over right away.

Rosaria huffed and stood, her knees aching a little. As she turned, she surveyed the sea of heads facing in her direction.

"I suggest that you all return to your work. As Mister Malfoy is not about to pass anytime soon, your jobs are all assured…for the time being." With the added threat every one of the employees turned quickly back to their desks, quills busily scratching across paper. Rosaria smirked to herself and returned to her requisition forms.

ooOOoo

Draco barely noticed that his floo flared or when a shapely young woman with brown hair that had been swept into a slick bun stepped through.

Hermione surveyed the room. Little seemed to have changed since her last visit which was shortly before Harry had left. The only thing which appeared to have altered were the addition of several thick folders around the room.

"Draco?" she asked softly as she stepped towards the desk, one hand raised towards him, her other hidden in her robes holding tightly to her wand. "I was told you wanted to see me." The platinum blonde head moved from its position on the desk.

Hermione could barely hold back her gasp at the sight of the high and mighty Draco Malfoy. His normal silver grey eyes were heavily blood shot and his face was contorted into a horrible blotched and tear streaked mess.

"He wasn't supposed to leave me," he whispered. The voice was so lost and distraught that Hermione could feel a small tug on her heart, something she never thought she would feel for Draco Malfoy. Another few tears slid down his face. "I want my Harry," he sobbed, with all the need of a distraught child crying for their mother.

Sobs continued to wrack his body as Hermione stepped closer, resting a soothing hand on his upper arm and rubbing slowly. Draco continued to cry into his hands as Hermione stood there. There were no words of comfort she could offer, not statements of hope. It was simply the way things were.

ooOOoo

"I think I'm going mad," Draco admitted some hours later, curled up in his large armchair. He carefully sipped the green tea Hermione had made for him.

"What makes you think that?" asked Hermione in full psychologist mode from her chair opposite him. "The fact that you are distressed over the loss of someone you loved dearly is perfectly normal."

"Oh cut the Healer crap," he demanded putting down the tea on his coffee table before remembering himself and conjuring a coaster.

"Fine then," she retorted her face loosing the look of all knowing. "What do you want me to say? Harry is gone. In all likelihood he is never coming back. But you two made that decision."

"No _he_ made that decision. The fact that the world was in danger was the reason he left. He left because he cares nothing for himself. Him and all his selfless Gryffindorness.

"Gods," he groaned rubbing his face, coming down from his tirade. "I…I'm having these…these terrible mood swings, all the time," he explained looking back towards the Healer. "I think something is wrong with me."

Hermione sighed and pulled out her wand. "Tell me what happens," she directed as she began a few diagnostic spells.

"I go from one extreme to another. I feel like a bloody hormonal woman," he whined. He didn't notice the slight scowl across Hermione's face, instead opting to rub his face. "I feel like I'm going to burst into tears at any given moment."

"We I can't see anything wrong aside from a few _slightly_ raised hormonal levels which could simply be from exposure to one of your imported plants. It's nothing out of the ordinary." She reached into her robes pulling out a blue vial. "The only thing I can suggest is that you take this potion." She placed it on the highly polished table surface before Draco. "A sip whenever you are feeling particularly emotional will help you balance out," she explained as he picked up the vial to examine it.

"I'll try it," he said after several moments. "This had better work Granger.'

"It's McKew now, Malfoy," she replied as she stood. "I'm married."

"To a muggle," he added with distaste. The muggleborn turned to him. "Not that there is anything wrong with that," he added defensively.

Hermione did not look entirely convinced but let it be. "If you have any more major, problems, as in you are about to commit suicide, consider calling me, otherwise I don't wish to hear from you again. Harry may have been your…whatever you would like to call it, but he was my friend. This is the only reason I'm doing this for you. All of his friends miss him." She picked up a handful of floo from the mantle before turning to Draco. "Good-bye Malfoy." And with that she disappeared in a burst of green flame.

ooOOoo

"Rosie," called Draco from his bathroom. "Be a dear and floo the office. Tell them I won't be in this morning."

"Certainly Mister Malfoy," came the reply.

"Good," he sighed, resting his head on the cool tiled wall. For several moments he sat there, resting, moving only once to wipe his mouth with the wet cloth he had summoned earlier. However those moments did not last long.

"Oh god," he groaned, hastily moving his head over the white bowl, paying respect to the porcelain Gods once again.

ooOOoo

Draco stepped into his trousers and pulled them up to his hips. That was easy enough but for some reason they seemed to be shrinking, specifically around the waist line. Pulling his stomach in he did up the button and hook followed by the zip.

'Yes,' he thought. They were definitely getting smaller. There was simply no way he was getting fat.

He turned to his full length mirror. The front on view was fine. Everything looked normal. Perhaps his abs didn't look quite as defined as several months ago, but that was no big deal. Draco turned to the side. There was definitely a difference. A small bump now occupied his lower stomach.

Draco rubbed his hand over the lump. It was definitely fat. Now that he really looked he was putting on weight everywhere. Gods, he was getting fat! Draco scowled.

"Rosie, I won't be home until late," he called pulling on his outer robes.

"What should I tell anyone who calls?" she asked from his doorway.

"Tell them I have a meeting."

"And if it is a dire emergency?" Draco looked at her in the mirror. The wand in her hand had a full head of feathers. He almost found it amusing.

"I'll be at the gym."

"Certainly Mister Malfoy."

The brunette nodded before wiping the wrinkles out of her white uniform and continuing with her dusting.

ooOOoo

"Well I can't see anything wrong with your fitness levels," said the Healer as he dispelled the spells monitoring Draco while he ran. The levitation spell lowered his feet back to the ground. "If anything you are one of the fittest individuals I've had in my office in quite a while," he added taking a seat at his desk.

"Well then what's wrong with me?" asked Draco exasperatedly as he gracefully plonked down in his chair. "I'm constantly fatigued, my feet are swelling and I'm getting fat!" The blonde sighed, picking up the glass of water that had been put out for him and took a few sips.

"I've sent away a few samples so we should have the results soon. You aren't showing any sign of external magical interference. Your biomagical levels are a little off but considering you line of work it could have been caused by anything. There is no way to determine that though. The only thing I can suggest is a referral to a Doctor in outer London."

"A Doctor? As in a muggle that cuts people up?" Just because he had lived as a Muggle for several months did not mean in the slightest that he liked Doctors.

"Muggle medicine does have some avenues which magic has not yet ventured into. What I am thinking of specifically is called an MRI."

Draco cringed at the name.

"It is a completely non-invasive procedure," the Healer assured him. "They simply put you through this huge ring like thing and get a complete internal picture of your body."

"Healer, a muggle's idea of non-invasive is piercing skin with metal things and literally sewing people up with needle thread. I simply refuse."

"You have to understand Mister Malfoy, in this day and age magic can only do so much. Muggle medicine has rapidly advanced these past decades while magical medicine hasn't. Muggle technology is simply fascinating. One gentleman I was speaking with said that there haven't been any major advances in the Wizarding world since the 1500's and I'm inclined to agree.

"But the Muggle Doctor I'm referring you to has had quite a bit of experience with magic. He himself is married to a witch and has had a lot of patients referred to him from St. Mungo's."

Draco sighed again, the day beginning to take a toll on him, again. "What other options do I have?"

"Well, you could try to wait it out, hope that this is just a phase and that it will pass or I can arrange a consult with the Head of Medicine in Europe."

"That sounds great."

"There is a three year waiting list for a single consultation and not even you, Mister Malfoy, can jump that Que. Much more influential people wish to see him."

"So you're saying my best option is to see this muggle?"

The Healer nodded.

"When?"

ooOOoo

Standing in his cubical Draco fidgeted with the slip the nurse had had the audacity to call a gown. Not long after he had arrived at the clinic he had been ordered to strip out of all of his clothes and put on the gown in the cubical.

"Are you ready Mister Malfay?"

"Mal_foy_," he corrected her, "and yes."

The woman yanked open the curtain and told him to follow her. Bare foot he padded across the cold linoleum floor into a smaller room where there was a bed in front of what looked like a giant cream coloured dome.

"This is Doctor McKew," said the nurse, "and Doctor McKew this is Mister Malfay."

"Malfoy," he corrected her. "Draco Malfoy," he added as he took in the rather young looking doctor. His hair was dark and short and all around he looked well kept.

"Yes, Mister Malfoy. That name does seem familiar." The Doctor looked at him for a moment. "Anyway you were referred here by Doctor Johnson."

"You won't happen to be married?" asked Draco having spotted the wedding band.

"Why yes," replied the doctor. "Almost three years since Hermione and I got married."

"Brilliant," grumbled Draco. "This world is too small." Such a statement immediately reminded Draco of the fact that there were other worlds and that his Harry was currently in one of them. Before he could become all weepy he changed the subject. "What exactly is it you want me to do?"

"Well firstly I need you to lie down on this bed and then we will leave the room to watch from behind that window. When everything is right the bed will move slowly back through the MRI machine and take hundreds of x-rays or pictures of your body," he explained using many hand gestures and entirely too much enthusiasm for Draco's liking.

He nodded, satisfied with the explanation. "Well let's get this over with."

ooOOoo

"I can find no other explanation for it," explained the Doctor.

"The fact that it has happened is astounding," added the Healer.

"I've never before seen anything like it," said the Doctor as he looked at a computer screen showing a moving series of black and white scribbles. "Mind you I haven't had many magical patients before either."

"Would one of you please tell me what is going on?" Draco finally asked having not gotten a straight answer out of either of the supposed Health professionals since he stepped in the room.

"You're pregnant," stated the Healer. Draco scowled.

"No really."

"I am being perfectly honest. The results of the MRI and subsequent ultrasound give a clear indication that you are indeed pregnant."

"Now is not the time to be joking," Draco told them, a little irritated. "If I have some huge abscess or life threatening condition just tell me so I can take it like a man."

The Doctor looked up from his screen and said that they were indeed perfectly honest.

"I… I can't be pregnant. I'm a male, I have a dick. I mean every so often you hear a tale of some weird gay wizards that have decided to have a kid but… I can't be pregnant. The idea itself is ludicrous."

"I am very serious Mister Malfoy," said the Healer. "You will need to begin monitoring immediately to ensure that none of your children are harmed."

"I'm going to have kid…as in there is a _thing_ in there right now?" Draco asked softly looking down at his widening waistline.

"It explains all of your mood swings, the gaining of weight, the fatigue-"

"Wait a minute," said Draco looking sharply back at the Healer. "You just said children. As in more than one."

"Uuuummmmm." The Healer looked towards the Doctor.

"You have to tell him."

"Well," the Healer said looking back to Draco, "we think that you…well we know that you are have a multiples pregnancy. We think that you have quintuplets."

"Quin as in five." Both professionals nodded. "Five," Draco repeated calmly, nodding slowly as his eyes rolled back into his head and he fainted dead.

ooOOoo

Several nights later Draco laid in his King size bed, alone as usual, asleep. Friends and people who weren't even friends had tried to insist that Draco move on in his life now that Harry was gone. They insisted that it was time to get past that 'phase' in his life, that it was time to marry a nice woman and settle down in a secure job. Draco had then told each and every one of those people exactly what he thought of their advice and precisely where and how they could shove it. He could never take another lover and that is why he was in bed alone.

His movements began to get more frantic before he finally jerked awake. Instinctively, even after so many weeks alone Draco rolled over to seek comfort from his lover only to find empty bed. It was then that reality came crashing back. Harry wasn't here. He was alone with no one.

Flickers of the dream filtered through his mind.

He had been running, and fighting. Harry had been in sight and then a stray Killing Curse slipped through their defences. He fell like a dead weight to the ground, his body radiating the sickly green light. Nameless faces held Draco back as he tried to fight his way to Harry's side. The body's head turned towards him, its expression accusing. "It's all your fault." That was when he had awoken.

Tears which he had held at bay began to form, rolling down his cheeks, making wet patches on his pillow. The pillows and blankets which he had snuggled down in held little comfort. If anything reminding him of what wasn't there.

ooOOoo

Harry was gone and wouldn't be coming back no matter how much Draco needed him. He was pregnant with Harry's children, all five of them. Children Harry didn't even know he had, children who would never know their other father. As things were, Draco didn't even know if he would make it though this pregnancy alive. Never before had any male had more than one child from a pregnancy. Every Tuesday morning Draco went in for a check-up and in-between visits he was to wear a monitoring device 24 hours a day.

He didn't even want to think what would happen if could not make through the pregnancy, let alone the birth, alive. He refused to think about it. These children, these babies living inside him right now were the only link he had left with Harry and he would not let go of them for the world.

Straight off the mark Draco had been ordered off the potion Hermione had given him that morning in his office. The Healer suggested that such a large number of foetuses were a result of the potion. It was known to cause a condition that had been called foetus multiplication where by non identical foetuses were formed in pregnant women which was why it was rarely given to witches. The Healer had also strictly forbidden him from contact with any artefacts and all dangerous botanicals.

It was around that time that Draco had discovered the distinct lack of options for himself considering that St Mungo's had no facilities such as paediatrics or maternity. Taking his problem straight to the top where he had started the process of the creation of new wards in St Mungo's including a radiology department. He had even gone as far as researching in detail the procedures in Muggle hospitals that could be implemented.

Within three weeks most of the departments had been constructed, spells, wards and enchantments in place, equipment bought and specialists from around the country gathered. Children's specialists, pregnancy experts, muggle authorities and researchers of male pregnancy had all been brought together for the well being of the community at large, and of course Draco and family.

During the second trimester his weekly checkups had been doubled to twice a week and by 20 weeks he had been ordered off all work. By that time fatigue was a constant issue and Draco could hardly stand up for 10 minutes without something, usually his back, starting to ache.

When told that he would be on total bed rest he had refused point blank, intent on maintaining his freedom. The Healer in consultation with other Healers and Doctors had relented and allowed him to move around his own house but not step foot out the front door on the condition he had a full time nurse with him at all times. That hour Draco had sent out applications and three days later Matthew was hired.

Eight weeks past and Draco had been admitted to St Mungo's maternity ward on full monitoring, much to his displeasure. One of the advantages of having funded most of the ward was that Draco was offered a private suite away from other expecting mothers which he greatly appreciated. The last thing he wanted was some busybody woman to come snooping around and finding him.

ooOOoo

"Look here. I don't care what the Healer has said. You are taking me off this stupid Muggle contraption and levitating me into that bathroom," demanded Draco as he pointed is finger at Matthew.

"Draco," said the young Nurse calmly. "The Healers and Doctors have said explicitly that you are not to be taken off the monitor and you know full well that monitoring spells affect the reading on the machine."

"Get. It. Off. Me. NOW," he growled from his rather un-intimidating position on the large bed, supported by many pillows. The blonde huffed and puffed a little. "Healer Johnson has said that it would be alright for me to be off the monitor for time enough to have a bath."

"I was under the impression that you were under complete monitoring," said Matthew a little confused. "When did Healer Johnson say that you could come off the monitor?"

"This morning when you weren't here," Draco said offhandedly. "Now unhook me and levitate me into that bathroom. My skin is sticky and I refuse to allow any of those nurses, you especially," he added when Matthew tried to offer, "to _sponge bathe_ me again."

"Right away, Mister Malfoy," replied the male Nurse as he began folding back the blankets which covered Draco's swollen abdomen.

Draco had never thought that his stomach could have ever expanded to such an extent. The size reminded him of the bag of practice Quaffle's the Slytherin chasers had used when he was back in school. Hideous red and purple stretch marks ran up the underside of his stomach, scarring his skin with every inch he grew. Not that he could see them of course. He could barely see his feet when they were raised. He was so fat. The only thing he wanted to do was have a nice warm, soapy bath in the luxurious tub not 15 foot away to make himself feel better.

He watched as Matthew pressed a few buttons on the plastic muggle contraptions that insisted on bleeping and blaring every ten minutes. The lights went out and Draco took that as the sign to start untangling himself. The Doctors had insisted that he be attached to every machine and contraption imaginable. There were torturous clams on his fingers, painful sticky patches on his chest, straps that threatened to cut of circulation around his abdomen and enough wires to begin an electrical company. There were even cords attached to who knows what on his _feet._ It was with an inordinate amount of patience that he waited for his Nurse to unclip every cord, aside from the ones Draco knew how to remove himself, and hang them over the machines. The Healers and Doctors had decided that muggle methods would be safer than magic as prolonged exposure could result in possible magical depletion in the children or even things as serious as birth defects. Unfortunately that was not a risk he was willing to take so this is how he was stuck.

Draco watched as Matthew drew his wand from his sleeve and carefully performed a bodily levitation charm that all of the Nurses and Healers had been using on him since he reached the point when he could no longer move himself about with relative ease. The spell was safe as it was only used periodically and it was less likely to cause injuries than trying to physically move Draco.

Moments later Matthew eased his employer into a magically expanded, deliciously warm bath. Had Draco been in any less control of himself he would have sighed but instead reframed, instead ordering a protesting Matthew out of the bathroom so he could enjoy the quite peace and warmth completely alone. We not exactly alone.

Lying back in the water, his head resting on the edge Draco stroked his stomach. There really were five little babies in there. Five children that were his own flesh and blood.

A limb knocked against the side of the stomach which triggered a cascade of movement as each little one knocked against another. The sensations of the babies moving about had first been ticklish, but that was a while ago now. More often than not he received a kick to some important organ that didn't like to be kicked. The five of them were closely packed together with little room to move. When one moved it set of a whole series of movements as the others were jostled.

"Settle down," Draco murmured rubbing his hand over his tummy to calm them, his eyes closed as he tried to relax. As if understanding his tiredness they settled down becoming quiet once again.

What felt like a foot kicked gentle against his side just under his hand, not enough to set off the others but enough that he could feel it from the outside. In reply he pressed back lightly and was rewarded with another kick.

How he would love to have shared this. It really was amazing. He still couldn't really comprehend that there were five, _five_, little babies inside him. And while he had Rosie and Matthew to help him, there really was only his children and him.

Sitting there in the warmth thinking and relaxing Draco felt a great sadness begin to descend upon him. It really was only him and his babies. Harry was gone. There were no friends to help, no relatives to call on. Having children wasn't something a person was meant to do on their own. This was something that he was meant to share. He had seen other parents before, adoring husbands doting over their pregnant wives, rubbing their backs, massaging their feet, whispering declarations of love into their ears.

Draco never had any of that. It was just him and them. Harry should have…should have been there for them and he wasn't. His Harry…oh god. Draco brought a shaky wet hand to his face as he held back the sobs.

It was okay. He would get thought this. He had all the support he needed. He had doctors and Healers and Nurses and….and…and that was all. He had no friends left, no lover, no one to go home to. It was just him.

He wasn't supposed to go. He wasn't supposed to leave him. He…

A single sob escaped Draco and echoed around the room, deafeningly loud to his ears. But he could not hold back any longer as the tears began to flow.

All of those nights he had lay in bed wishing that Harry was there to feel an arm or leg move under his rapidly expanding stomach. Those times he had gotten home and the only thing he wanted was a hug. The times he had been so scared, like right now, and all he wanted was someone to tell him it was all going to be okay and they would mean it.

He wanted his Harry back. His Harry. His sweet, loving, charming, caring Harry. He just wanted him back.

Draco didn't notice as the door opened, nor as Matthew walked into the room.

"Draco? Draco, are you okay?" asked the Nurse anxiously seeing the blonde sobbing loudly in the bathtub. "Should I get the Healer?"

"Get out," he whispered, not bothering to look towards the young man.

"I should get the Healer, Draco."

"I said get out," he repeated forcefully.

"You're clearly not alright. Do you need someone?" That question hurt more than Draco expected. Yes he needed someone. He needed Harry but Matthew wasn't about to jump in to another dimension to go get him, was he?

"Just GET OUT!" he shouted, spilling some water over the side of the tub as he turned to look at him straight.

"Okay. I'm going," he said quietly as one would speak to a wild animal. "I'm going."

Draco watched until the door shut softly. His bottom lip wobbled as the anger fell away and a few more sobs came out.

After a few moments he was able to pull himself together and calm down a bit. Grabbing a washer from the stand beside the tub he dipped it into the water and wringing it out placed it over his face, effectively blocking most of the light out.

What he needed now, was to be calm, to not become a complete emotional wreck. He could, and would, stay in control of himself. Placing his hands on his stomach he did what he had found to be calming in the last few weeks and that was talking to Harry.

'I'm at the hospital now. They have me hooked up to every imaginable Muggle contraption. I feel like a baleen whale I'm so big. I know you would just tell me I was beautiful but not being about to even roll over certainly doesn't make me feel beautiful.

'I don't know how much longer now. The Doctors have said they want me to have a caesarean. I don't even know what that is. I just don't want them to cut me open. I also want these kids out of me soon. If things keep going the way they are I'm going to literally burst open. But still I can't wait to see them.

'Matthew, he's my nurse, and Rosie have been putting together a nursery. There are going to be five cots and a changing table and … well I don't really know what else but they assure me that everything is set to go.

'I really don't know the first thing about babies do I? I…I don't know anything.

'What am I doing, Harry? You have no idea how much I want you here right now. Just to hold me. No one's held me since you left. I'm scared, Love. I need you to be strong for me where ever you are. I'll be strong for you.'

"Draco!" exclaimed a voice, pulling him from his thoughts.

'I love you.'

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" It sounded like Healer Johnson. He was an arse.

"Matthew says that you told him I said you could come off the monitors for a _bath_."

'Talk about he said she said.'

"Draco, are you listening to me?" The Healer pulled the washer off his face and the inside of his eyelids turned red from the light.

Why on earth did he have to do that? He was having such a nice rest.

"Draco?" A hand shook his shoulder. "Can you hear me?"

'I can hear you perfectly well.'

"Open you're eyes."

'They're too heavy.'

"Draco, talk to me."

'No. Too tired. Too heavy….'

"Damn where's my wand?" Rustling of fabric. "Matthew, levitate him out onto these towels."

A gigantic force came up under Draco lifting him out of the water. He could feel the droplets running off his body. A moment later he was set down on some towels on his side but his feet were still on the cold tiles.

"Go call Healer Mills, quickly." A hand took his it was warm, really warm, and dry. "Draco, squeeze my hand? Can you do that?"

His muscles felt so sore but he tried without much success. Fingers pulled open his eyelids, exposing him to the bright bathroom lighting. He tried to pull away but had little success. What was wrong with him?

Tiny shivers began to wrack his body before he was completely trembling.

What was happening?

"Its okay, Draco. Everything will be fine. Just stay calm."

"Healer Johnson."

"He got the nurse to unhook him from the monitoring machines and wanted to take a bath. The nurse came in found him severely distressed. I was called. I came in he was unresponsive, minimal muscle movement. Body temperature's decreased and foetal activity has also decreased. Aversion to light. No immediate danger detected."

"I can't detect anything." A hand came to rest on Draco's exposed hip. "Let's move him to the bed. Nurse, clean and clear if you would.

Again he was lifted but this time ended up on a stretcher, some loose clothes sent straight onto his body. Being covered made him feel better. Before he knew it he was unconscious.

ooOOoo

"Draco?" said a soft voice. "Can you hear me, Mister Malfoy?"

Draco gave a non committal "Mmhh" and pried opened his eyes as far as they would let him which was only just. He had been placed on his side judging from the pillow under his cheek and in front of him sat a woman who must have been the one speaking to him.

Shutting his eyes again Draco attempted to go back to sleep.

"Mister Malfoy, you really must try to stay awake for the time being."

With much effort he opened his eyes again. When he tried to ask what it was that she wanted the words got stuck in his throat and sticky mouth. He tried to swallow without much luck until a straw was placed in his mouth. A few sips of water cleared his cotton ball fluff mouth and he was once again able to talk.

"What do you want?" he asked sleepily, a hand unconsciously moving to rest on his abdomen.

The woman was young, a few years older than Draco perhaps. She had jet black hair that was almost blue which she had pulled straight back. She had full lips and large cheeks and wore a clingy robe that showed too much cleavage.

"My name's Helen. You're Healers have asked me to come and see you."

"What do you want?" Draco asked again.

"I just want to talk."

Draco scoffed. No one just wanted to talk to him. She had just said that the Healers had told her to come and talk to him. He wasn't stupid. Draco closed his eyes again and attempted to go to sleep.

"You're Healer's were very worried, Mister Malfoy." Draco continued to ignore the woman. "Especially after that stunt you pulled."

"You knew it was dangerous to be off your monitors." Things began to come back. He had wanted a bath, how silly it sounded now. Matthew didn't want to let him but relented. "With your condition monitoring could very well save your life." The bath had been warm. It was a nice bath until he started crying. He had shouted at Matthew.

"There is more than just yourself to worry about now. You have your children." He'd been thinking of Harry. That was all he seemed to do these days. "The sooner you understand that the better." The Healer had been calling him but he had been too tired to move. He couldn't move. He couldn't open his eyes. There had been spells and wires and shouting and yelling. What had happened to him?

Draco opened his eyes. The woman hadn't moved. "I need to speak to Healer Johnson."

"Healer Johnson is in a consultation at the moment. Why do you need to see him?"

"I just do," he stated firmly. There was absolutely no point trying to get up he knew it was futile to try.


End file.
